


Looking back, I found us

by placida_nox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional pain, Gen, Memories, Nostalgia, Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placida_nox/pseuds/placida_nox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean visits Sam after he falls into the pit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking back, I found us

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fan-fiction I have ever written and it takes place in between the end of season 5 and beginning of season 6 and I based one of the memories from 'Dark Side of the Moon' from season 5, so I hope it's not too bad. It was beta'd by my wonderful cousin, but any mistakes in it are my own.

Dean stared at his white-knuckled hands, tightly clasping the steering wheel. His hands wouldn’t let go, stopping him from leaving the Impala. So, he had just been sitting there, trying not to think about anything in particular; anything to delay what he had stupidly thought earlier he was ready to do. He wasn’t ready, he was kidding himself. Three months had evidently not been enough.

No. He could do it. He’d made a promise to himself, and to… He could do it. He had to.

His fingers slowly rolled of the steering wheel and Dean led them to the handle of the car door. The door opened with that same unchanging, familiar squeak, and when Dean pushed the door closed it creaked and locked with a small click.

He gripped the handle of the car door and shut his eyes and breathed in slowly, deeply. He let out one last tired sigh before letting go and turning away from the Impala.

Dean walked slowly through the cemetery, he was in no rush and besides it was a particularly nice afternoon.

The sun was a about an hour from setting which meant it didn’t have enough power to burn hot, only gracing the earth in a warm, tender glow. The sun sat in a light pink sky with soft clouds floating past on the gentle wind. The wind quietly rustled the leaves of the dark trees hanging over the cemetery fence. The ground beneath his feet was damp and muddy. All the clouds were white, lined with a light orange from the drowsy sun. The wet grass was littered with randomly placed gravestones, some small with only a name, others large with an angel watching over the grave.

Dean hesitantly looked around for the headstone he had come to see. His eyes eventually fell upon the inscription of a simple grey-coloured marble headstone.

**_For_ **

_Sam Winchester_

_Who went down fighting  
_

_Born: May 2 nd 1983 _

_Passed: May 13 th 2010   
_

_Beloved Brother_

Dean read the inscription and overwhelmed by the grief he had refused to deal with, collapsed to his knees in front of the stone. He looked away but the tears had already started to creep down his cheeks falling from his chin. He could barely breathe, all he could take in were sharp breaths that just made more tears come.

He sat there crying quietly for a little while, well however long it took him to stop.

He breathed out a loud sigh, which seemed to make him calm down a little. He looked back at the headstone.

 _‘Sam’_ … Why? Why had this have to happen? Surely there was another way for this to have ended. Dean had gotten away from Michael. Why couldn’t Sam have escaped Lucifer? There must have been another option! Why was it that Sam of all people, who had suffered and dealt with enough, who had to be the one to lay down his life to defeat the Devil! Sam shouldn’t have been Lucifer’s vessel. So he’d made a few mistakes these past couple years, but none that deserved a death sentence like that. After everything with the yellow-eyed demon; they still couldn’t expect to be left alone. Dean let out a frustrated grunt.

What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t know how to live a life that didn’t have Sam in it. He could fill it with distractions, but that’s what they’d always be: distractions. Sam was always there or if he wasn’t with Sam, he knew where he could find him. Sam was the one permanent thing in Dean’s life and now he was gone. For good.

Dean was alone now and honestly he felt like there was nothing truly keeping him here, not really. Cas and Bobby were alive but it wasn’t the same. Cas had to go back to heaven and Bobby well, Bobby had his own life. But for Dean, Sam had always been in his life. He couldn’t just let him go. Not after everything they’d been through. He went to hell for Sam, he meant everything to Dean.

They never had a typical apple pie, white picket fence life, far from it, but at least they’d always had each other to rely on. Despite all the crap that happened to them, there were lots of good memories amongst the pain and blood and darkness.

Dean smiled to himself and wiped away some new tears. There was a memory from their early days, when he was around six, which he had always remembered. It was around the time when Sam was learning how to walk.

 

He had been trying and trying for days but Sam just couldn’t stand on his feet. Whenever Sam did stand up it would only be a short moment before he’d fall back down. Dean would always go and check he was okay and help Sam back up. One day though, Sam got up off the floor, stood, hesitated, and took his first steps.

They were towards Dean.

Dean could see his baby brother’s face, how happy he was. And then he fell back down but Dean caught him and held him in his lap on the floor. What Dean also remembered was looking at their father who, seemed to be a little surprised but there was a small smile on his face too.

 

Even though there was a four year gap between them, Sam and Dean never found it hard to be nice to each other. They almost never fought, when they did it was over something stupid like food. But that was probably because Sam would usually get in a fight with their dad instead. Plus, being on the road all the time they never had the time to make friends, like normal kids, so they settled for what they had. Each other.

Dean looked down at his hands that were resting on his legs and let a small smile show on his face. Dean was always there to help Sam when he was in trouble. No matter what it was, Dean would try to find a way to help. When they were younger, they’d only really seen John when he’d come back from a hunt, but he’d just sleep. Then they were on the road again, to the next town. The next hunt. So it’d been Dean’s job to watch out for Sammy, to be there for him.

 

Their dad had gone out on a hunting trip and it was just Sam and Dean holed-up alone in another crappy motel room. Dean was bored out of his mind watching whatever had been on TV at the time and wasn’t paying attention to what Sam was doing. Dean was just lying on the couch, slowly drifting off to sleep, until he heard a cry from the bedroom. He leapt off the couch and ran into the bedroom to find Sam sniffling on the floor clutching his bleeding arm with Dean’s silver knife lying next to him, the one their dad had given to him for his birthday. Dean sat down next to him and looked at the cut.

“What were you doing with that?! I’ve told you not to play with my stuff heaps of times, Sam.” Dean had told him in a stern and annoyed voice.

“You’re just so good with knives and… I just wanted to see if I could get it right too… To make dad happy…” Sam croaked, trying to hold back sobs.

Dean frowned and looked down at his brother. He realised that Sam was just being a normal kid and trying to make their dad proud. Dean sighed and crouched next to Sam. “You’re not gonna get it right away but you know there’s plenty of time for you to practice Sam. Just let me know next time so I can watch out for you. Let me fix your arm.”

Sam nodded and wiped away some tears.

After Dean had cleaned the cut and wrapped it up, he put Sam in bed. But before Sam rolled over and went to sleep he looked up at Dean and said “Love you Dean. Goodnight.”

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, a little surprised, like he was never expecting Sam to say that to him. “Love you too Sammy.”

 

Dean covered his face as he remembered. Sam had always meant so much to him, he never thought about whether Sam actually needed him too. He guessed that was why Sam had been so pissed about the deal. Sam had been angrier than Dean had ever seen him, and he had sat through all the yelling matches between Sam and their dad. Sam couldn’t see that Dean had done it for him. But Sam had been right. It took a while for Dean to understand what Sam meant about it being selfish, he hadn’t thought about how Sam would feel at all. 

Family had always meant so much to Dean because his had always been broken so he held onto whatever he had; Dad and Sam. It was always so difficult to see them fight because then it felt like Dean had to choose between them. It was a choice he always tried to avoid since it was an impossible one. Before Stanford, Dean wouldn’t have left his father’s side, there was always a subtle, crippling sense of obligation. Besides, Dean couldn’t have left hunting. It was all he knew, he’d gotten too comfortable in the lifestyle.

Now though… Sam. He would always choose Sam. Over their dad. Over anyone.

But while Sam had been around, all Dean had ever wanted was to see Sam happy. Sam had always, for the most part, wanted a different life.

 

July 4th 1996\. Their dad was with Pastor Jim leaving the Impala in Dean’s care, and of course Dean also had to look after Sam. Sam was in one of his moods which wasn’t really surprising since it was a holiday. One of the holidays they never put a lot of effort into celebrating. Sam wouldn’t say anything, he’d just sit on the couch in the motel moping. It was infuriating.

“Get your jacket.” Dean told him while he opened door.

“Why? Where are we going?” Sam asked.

“Just, come on Sam.” He replied impatiently and walked out.

Sam sighed and got his jacket.

Dean had planned where they could go but before heading off there in the Impala Dean had to make a stop first.

“Wait here.” Dean told Sam as they parked in a dark alley across the road from a mini-mart.

“Why?” Sam asked begrudgingly.

“Wait here Sam. I’ll be back in a minute.” Dean smiled and got out.

Sam scowled as he watched Dean strut into the mini-mart, and then he had to wait. After a little while, Dean rushed out of the store with a box of fireworks in his hands and a very angry store owner yelling profanities behind him. He bolted to the Impala and put the box in the trunk before hurriedly clambering into the driver’s seat.

“See Sam. This is gonna be a fun Fourth of July.” Dean grinned as they drove out of the alley onto the main road.

It took them about a half hour to reach the field. Dean had seen heaps of empty land as they had driven into town.

Dean parked the Impala, the engine stopped with its soft familiar purr. Dean watched Sam open the door and run to the trunk. Dean smiled and got out too.

He looked at Sam clutching the box of fireworks. “Come on, let’s go.” Sam laughed.

Dean nodded with a smile and Sam rushed to the centre of the field and put down the box. He ran back over to Dean with a couple of firework sticks.

“Do you have your lighter?” asked Sam.

“Of course I do.” Dean took out his lighter.

“Fire ’em up.”

Dean held the flame at the end of the fireworks’ fuse. They held them up towards the sky. Small balls of white light shot out of the end and rocketed high above their heads before exploding into amazing colours, lighting up the endless, cloudless black sky.

Sam grabbed Dean’s lighter from his hand and ran to the box and lit the rest of the fuses alight. Before they flew into the sky Sam ran back to Dean’s side and yelled, “Fire in the hole!”

They stepped back captivated by the fireworks as they burst into the dark night sky and lit it up making all the black fall into the cracks between the light and colour. Dean felt the warmth of the fireworks on his face and the silent threat of their brightness. He could see a million colours and then when the colours had faded to black, more would replace them. He could smell the smoke but also the frost in the cool night’s air. Sam ran forward, giving into the temptation of the inviting, excited explosions. Even above all the noise of the fireworks cracking above, Dean could still here Sam’s whoops and shouts. He looked down below the lights and saw Sam smiling and dancing in the sparks.

When all the fireworks had blazed up and burnt out, Sam walked back over to Dean. He had one of the happiest smiles Dean had ever seen plastered across his face.

“Dad wouldn’t let us do anything like this. Thanks Dean. This was great.” Sam looked up at him and hugged Dean tightly. And Dean hugged him back.

 

It had always been him and Sam against the world… and those SOBs in hell… and then those dicks in heaven.

Dean turned on his knees and moved back so that he was leaning against the headstone. It warmed his back, feeding him the warmth it had received all day from the glowing sun. He breathed deeply, the smell of wet grass and the scent of dying flowers from bouquets filled and swirled around in his head. He was calm again. It was nice sitting there, even though it was a cemetery. Now that Sam was gone, Dean had stopped hunting and he hadn’t missed the constant smell or sight of blood that he had unhealthily gotten used to.

Dean looked up. The sun was going to set. He’d have to leave soon.

He sighed and tears stung his eyes as he suddenly remembered the best type of memories he had had with Sam. The best ones were whenever they could, whenever they could find a spare moment between the wounds and the monsters, they would drive and park somewhere quiet, where they could see the sky. And with a beer, they sat on the hood of the Impala and looked up at the stars. Not saying anything, just taking solace in the calmness of the evening. It was those moments Dean would cherish, the ones where it just felt like it was just him and Sam in the world and no crap they had to worry about.

No monsters in the dark.

He slowly got up and faced the gravestone and read the inscription again. He stared at it reading and re-reading it. Tears tumbled down cheeks.

“I… I miss you. I just wish you weren’t gone. I love you Sammy,” Dean whispered.

Dean sobbed quietly for a couple minutes, with his hands covering his face. He slid them down his face and wiped away the tears. He sighed heavily. No more tears formed in his eyes, he didn’t think he had any left. Dean nodded slightly. _‘Beloved Brother’_ , a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth.

Dean turned his back towards the grave and hesitated a moment before he started to walk back towards the Impala.

Lisa and Ben were probably waiting for him back at the house.


End file.
